


The Trees

by akurokus



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: And so is El and Mike, Angst, Billy is only mentioned, Coming Out, Dysfunctional Family, F/F, Ficlet, Gay Maxine "Max" Mayfield, Gay Will Byers, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kinda, Lonnie kinda has a role in this if you put two and two together, Loss of Innocence, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Sad Maxine “Max” Mayfield, Sad Will Byers, This fic was written to vent so it might be messy and horrible, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-10
Updated: 2018-04-10
Packaged: 2019-04-21 07:05:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14279613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akurokus/pseuds/akurokus
Summary: Max and Will have much more in common than they think.





	The Trees

“I come out here a lot,” Max explains. 

Will can only stare at her. He’s confused as to why she brought him out here. It was in the woods, and yes they both have been in here, but it was too deep. They couldn’t hear anything here. No one was here.

It didn’t scare Will, but the feeling was unpleasant. He decided he didn’t like it, but didn’t see the point in vocalizing his complaints.

Max continues to babble, “I come out here to scream.”

Will keeps staring.

”It’s helpful,” she insists. They’re silent for a while, and Max takes the opportunity to chastise him, “You don’t get it.”

The leaves are rustling when Will purses his lips. “I don’t,” he confirms. It is only after another silence that Will finally asks, frustrated, “Why did you bring me...” he gestures around, “ _Here_.” He shakes his head and starts to pace, “Maxine, what are we _doing_?”

Max glares at him.

It isn’t the way Lonnie does it, but Will doesn’t think he likes it either. His head hurts. There’s pity in there and some sort of sadness. It isn’t entirely anger. But he doesn’t like it still. _He doesn’t like it._  He doesn’t get it. Any control he once had was gone, and he doesn’t like it. His chest hurts, his eyes, his legs, everything.

He doesn’t like it.

”We’re here to scream,” she admits, albeit quietly. She watches Will. He looks frail. Out here, he looks weaker than Jane. He carried himself by telling himself he has it under control, and Max starts to scowl when Will doesn’t say a thing. He never says anything.

”Fine, if you’re not gonna scream, I will,” she states. It comes out harsher than she intends, but she carried on with her routine. She balls her hand in a fist, she sees Will flinch and cover himself, she punches a tree.

He’s confused.

She punches it once, twice, enough until her knuckles start to bleed from the bark. She screams and kicks the roots, _nothing makes sense_. Her face is splotchy red, her eyes sting, but she doesn’t know what stings most. 

Her throat is hurting, “I’m tired. I hate my _fucking_ parents.” Her voice is echoing, but she screams louder, “I hate Billy, I’m tired of being a pawn.” It’s getting scratchier, but she pushes herself. 

It’s scratchy like the teddy bear Billy tried to put together for her with ragged fabric when they were kids. It’s scratchy like her father’s beard, like the dead grass in their backyard and the decaying floorboards in their basement.

”And I’m in love with someone who’ll never fucking love me back,“ she shrieks. She grabs her hair and yanks. There’s hair strands in her hands, and it’s a brighter red than it should be. She doesn’t hear Will when he objects, when he whispers quietly to himself.

”I like boys,” he tells himself. 

Max doesn’t notice when he joins in, she’s punching a tree again. Her blood is on it, but she slams her body against it defiantly. Her whole side begins to ache like her knuckles do. She slams her body against it again and again while screeching.

Will starts to cry. He’s realizing it. “I like boys,” he mourns. His voice breaks for a moment, and Max turns to him with a new venom in her tongue and a fire in her eyes.

”Say it,” she demands.

”I like boys,” he repeats. Will’s shoulders are shaking, his whole body is shaking. Everything is falling apart. His ears are on fire. His face is hot from his tears, and his vision blurs. The world looks like a stained glass window.

Max growls and pounds her fist against her aching side, “ _ **Say it louder.**_ ” She bellows and starts throwing rocks at the same tree.

”I like boys!” he screams. He shrivels up before crying out, and he’s sobbing. Will puts his face in his hands before whimpering out a swear. 

“ _ **Louder** ,_” Max snarls, and she digs her heel into the ground before grabbing Will by the shoulders.

He can feel her nails dig into his jacket, he can feel it through his shirt. It stings, but Will lets out a shrill wail, “I’m in love with Mike Wheeler.” He grabs ahold of his hair and _pulls_. It stings. His voice echoes. There’s blood on his shoulder from the knuckles of a girl he once knew. 

She lets go of him and wipes her face. Her teary face becomes bloody.

Will tests out one punch against a tree, then another. His already bruised knuckles start to become red. They threaten to bleed, but Will stops. He squeezes his one non-swollen eye shut, making his other eye ache with a pain that feels dull. He starts to babble incoherently, and he gets ready to slam his already bruised side into a tree. He’s stopped by Max.

The ground dissolves beneath, but the trees still tower over them.


End file.
